Melody Jones and The Olympians- The Lightning Thieves
by Katie Horror
Summary: Melody Jones life got complicated when she soon found out that the Greek Mythology stories she loved to read are coming right out of the pages. and that's not the worst part: both her and her newly made friend, Percy Jackson, are accused of a crime they didn't do. She and her friends shall have to go on a dangerous adventure to restore peace before war breaks out between the gods.


**ONE**

**Ω**

**I ACCIDENTALLY VAPORIZE PERCY'S PRE-ALGEBRA TEACHER**

Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood, or so I thought.

If you're reading this because you think you might be one, my advice: close this book right now. Believe whatever lie your mom or dad told you about your birth, and try to lead a normal life.

Being a half-blood is dangerous. It's scary. Most of the time, it gets you killed in painful nasty ways.

If you're a normal kid, reading this because you think this is fiction, great. Read on. I envy you for being able to believe that none of this happened.

But if you recognize yourself in these pages − if you feel something stirring inside – stop reading immediately. You might be one of us. And once you know that, it's only a matter of time before they sense it too, and they'll come for you.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

My name is Melody Jones.

I'm twelve years old. This whole insanity started when I went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to look at ancient Greek and Roman stuff.

I know –it sounds like torture. But I actually enjoy going to museums, plus my homeschool Latin teacher, Mr. Brunner, Suggested that I should go here.

I walked through the big echoey –if that's even a word –galleries, past marble statues and glass cases full of really old black-and-orange pottery in fascination.

I stopped around a thirteen-foot-tall stone column with a big sphinx on top; it was a grave marker, or a stele. Beside it I saw Mr. Brunner talking to a boy about my age.

"Mr. Brunner!" I called out. He and the boy turned to face my direction. I waved and walked to them.

Mr. Brunner was this middle aged guy in a wheelchair, but with me being schizophrenic, whenever I see him, I see his legs as white horse legs somehow. He had thinning hair and a scruffy beard and a frayed tweed jacket, which always smelled like coffee. You wouldn't think he'd be cool, but he told stories and jokes and let me play games in class. He also had this awesome collection of Roman armour and weapons, so it made Latin one of my favourite subjects. After his job as a Latin teacher at Yancy Academy he would teach me Latin at home.

When I stopped in front of them I got a closer look at the boy. He had good looks, with sea-green eyes and windblown black hair.

"Melody, good to see you, I guess you took up my offer to come here. Amazing is it not?"

"Yeah, this place is incredible."

I turned to the boy and smiled. "Hi, I'm Melody."

"Percy," Percy replied.

"Percy, you can go to lunch now, and why don't you take Melody with you to meet Grover?" Mr. Brunner asked.

Percy nodded, and we went outside.

His class gathered on the front steps of the museum, where we could watch the foot traffic along Fifth Avenue.

Overhead, a huge storm was brewing, with clouds blacker than I'd ever seen over the city. I figured maybe it was global warming or something, because the weather all across New York State had been weird since Christmas. We'd had a massive snow storms, flooding, wildfires from lightning strikes. I wouldn't have been surprised if this was a hurricane blowing in.

But nobody seemed to notice.

When I met Grover I instantly knew what he was like, I'm scary like that. Anyway, Grover was scrawny. I can sense like wind pushing on me that he cried a lot when he got frustrated. He must've been held back several grades, because he was the only sixth grader with acne and the start of a wispy beard on his chin. He walked funny, like every step hurts him. I mentally slapped myself on the face when I started seeing that through his jeans is a pair of goat legs. Darn my schizophrenia. It was surprisingly funny, but I ignored it. That's what I always did every single day of my life since I was able to talk. 'Ignore it. It's not real.'

I wanted to finish looking at all the exhibits in the museum, so I said my goodbyes and went back in. I went back in the Greek and Roman section. Along the way I spotted a red- haired girl through the window. She was in the fountain outside, soaking wet. I ignored her and went on. When I arrived I realized, except for me, the gallery was empty.

I was mesmerised by a big marble frieze of the Greek gods. That's when I heard the growling. I turned and saw that I was face to face with an old lady about fifty years old who wore a leather jacket. Not only did she look mean enough to ride a Harley right into someone's house, she gave me the chills with this creepy aura around her, like she wasn't real. Beside her was Percy.

"You've been giving us problems, honeys," she said. "Yes, Mrs. Dodds –I mean –yes, ma' am," said Percy. Whereas I just grunted a, "Huh?"

She tugged on the cuffs of her leather jacket. "Did you two really think you guys would get away with it?"

The look in her eyes was beyond mad. It was evil.

She's a teacher, I thought nervously. It's not like she's going to hurt me, I thought nervously.

Percy said, "I'll try harder, ma'am."

"Wait," I said. "I don't even go to your school."

Thunder shook the building.

"We are not fools, Melody Jones and Percy Jackson," Mrs. Dodds said. "It was only a matter of time before we found you guys out. Confess, and you two will suffer less pain."

I didn't know what she was talking about.

"Well?" She demanded.

"Ma'am I don't –"

"Your time is up," she hissed.

Then the weirdest thing happened. Her eyes began to glow like barbecue coals. Her fingers stretched, turning into talons. Her jacket, melted into large, leathery wings. She wasn't human, or was it just me being a schizoid? I didn't know. She was a shriveled hag with bat wings and claws and a mouth full of yellow fangs, and she was about to slice me and Percy to ribbons.

Then things got even stranger.

Mr. Brunner came wheeling in his chair into the door way of the gallery, holding a pen in his hand. Beside him was my Nana, who was out of breath, holding a keychain.

You see, I was orphaned when I was too young to remember anything about my biological parents, but Nana knew my parents and adopted and raised me for twelve long years now. She was my math, science, history, geology, art, music, gym, media, and gym teacher when I was homeschooled. My Nana doesn't necessarily act her age –she can boogie like a twenty year old even though she's forty eight years old.

"What ho, Percy!" Mr. Brunner shouted, and tossed the pen through the air.

As Mrs. Dodds lunged for Percy, my Nana shouted, "Melody catch!" and she tossed the keychain through the air. When I caught the keychain, it turned automatically transformed into a six foot wooden staff.

I looked at Percy; in his hands now wasn't a pen, it was a bronze sword.

Mrs. Dodds spun towards us with a murderous look in her eyes.

She snarled, "Die, honeys!"

And flew straight at us.

I was hyperventilating, HARD. I did the only thing that came naturally: I swung the staff.

Both Percy and I had the same I idea. He sliced her shoulder and I whacked her waist and it passed clean her body as if she were made of water. Hisss!

Mrs. Dodds was a sand castle in a power fan. She exploded into yellow powder leaving nothing but the smell of sulfur and a dying screech and a chill of evil in the air, as if those two glowing red eyes were still watching us.

Percy and I were alone. No one else was there.

There was a keychain in my hand. Now that I looked at it more closely, I can see that a bronze key was attached to the loop of the keychain, and the head of the key was a small soft ball that fits perfectly in my palm. Along the sides of the head were twelve tiny symbols infused onto it. One was a sun and another was a moon and another was a skull and so forth. Out of the twelve, two stood out: a trident and a lightning bolt, and they were both sort of glowing. On top of the head was a raised omega symbol, just so you can feel the texture of the symbol, unlike the rest of them. In Percy's hand was a ballpoint pen.

Mr. Brunner and Nana wasn't there anymore. Nobody was there but me and Percy.

I wanted to barf up my breakfast. Maybe I ate something weird. I did eat accidentally ate that unrefrigerated pie…

Had I being a schizoid finally went to the extreme? Did I imagine all of this?

Percy and I went back outside.

It had started to rain.

Grover was sitting by the fountain, a museum map tented over his head. The girl with curly red hair I saw earlier was still standing there, soaked from her swim in the fountain, grumbling to a couple of ugly girls. When she saw Percy, she said, "I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your butt."

I raised an eyebrow. What did Percy do to get him to get his butt whipped? Did he push this girl into the fountain? A part of me said yes, but an even bigger part of me said no, knowing that Percy did not seem to be that type of person. And my intuition is never wrong.

Percy said, "Who?"

"Our teacher. Duh!"

My eyes widened. If any teacher was going to whip his butt, shouldn't it have been Mrs. Dodds?

Percy asked the girl what she was talking about.

She just rolled her eyes and turned away.

I asked Grover where Mrs. Dodds was.

He said, "Who?"

I could sense he was lying; he paused first, and wouldn't look at me.

"Not funny, man," Percy told him. "This is serious."

Thunder boomed overhead.

I saw Mr. Brunner sitting under a red umbrella stuck up from the back of his chair, reading a book, as if he'd never moved.

Percy and I went over to him.

He looked up, a little distracted. "Ah, that would be my pen. Please bring your own writing utensil in the future, Mr. Jackson. And that is a lovely keychain, Ms. Jones. Did you get it in the museum's gift shop?"

Percy handed Mr. Brunner his pen. As Percy handed it to him, I felt a weird pull in my gut, as if saying, "No! Don't hand it to him! You need it!"

I looked at the keychain. I hadn't even realized I was still holding it.

"Sir," Percy said, "where's Mrs. Dodds?"

He stared at him blankly. "Who?"

"The other chaperone. Mrs. Dodds. The pre- algebra teacher."

"Yeah," I said. "You know –short, mean, haggy, evil –do I have to go on?"

He frowned and sat forward, looking mildly concerned. "Melody, Percy, there is no Mrs. Dodds on this field trip. As far as I know, there has never been a Mrs. Dodds at Yancy Academy. Are you two feeling alright? Or… is your case of schizophrenia in overdrive, Melody?

* * *

><p><strong><em>Katie Horror here! I wrote this 2 years ago i think... anyways, to all you utapri fans here, yes i do other stuff too. but i discontinued this story for my utapri fanfic called "A Prince of Song? Maji Love 1000". but i will once again try to continue this story. you may notice: that my writing style is always the same. like i take a story or song and keep everything the same, even the dialog, and just add my oc in there. well enough of me babbling on.<em>**

**_Horror, signing out._**


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